MOVIE REVIEW

By BY ANDY KLEIN

First of all . . . Boo!

OK, now that that's out of the way . . . were there always this many horror films released around Halloween? The non-rhetorical answer to that rhetorical question is "No." For a host of reasons -- including production costs and audience demographics -- the genre has provided a reliable flow of profitable releases and tentpole franchises ever since Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees first slashed their way into our hearts three decades ago.

ADVERTISEMENT

And so it is that Ti West's "The House of the Devil" is sallying forth into a marketplace that already includes several shades of horror -- "Zombieland" (comedy), "Saw VI" (gore), "Antichrist" (art-house style) and "Paranormal Activity" (spooky on a bargain budget). (It would probably be in poor taste to include "This Is It.")

The film opens with a nice bit of misdirection: The camera tracks slowly though an empty, normal-looking house before landing on potential renter college sophomore Samantha (Jocelin Donahue). The landlady (Dee Wallace) seems eager to rent it to her at a strikingly low price. What terrible back story is she withholding from Sam, in her hurry to find a tenant?

None, as it turns out. This is not the house referred to in the title, and we never see it again.

But the episode does give a few additional facts about the wholesome, Girl Next Door-type Sam: She is desperate to escape the dorms, because her roommate is a slob and she's a neat freak and a germophobe. Still, despite the low rent, she doesn't have enough to cover the first month's payment, due in a few days.

And so it is that she decides -- having apparently not watched enough horror films to know better -- to accept a one-night baby-sitting job from the decidedly creepy Mr. Ulman (Tom Noonan) and his creepier wife (Mary Woronov). There are a whole bunch of tip-offs that, in her need for cash, she chooses to ignore -- including the revelation that her charge for the night is not a baby, but rather a troublesome oldster.

Of course, the film's title has already tipped us off that she's going to run up against someone a good deal older (and scarier) than just some crazy grandma. And, in case we happen to forget what movie we're watching, West gives us a pre-credit screen of text, talking about satanic cults. So we know going in that we're going to see (in essence) "Don't Go Into the House of Rosemary's Baby."

This strategy allows West to milk maximum suspense out of the middle third (or more) of the film. As Sam alternately snoops around and dances to her clunky proto-Walkman -- this is the mid-'80s -- we're screaming, "No! Don't open that door!" and "Don't look in the basement!" and "For God's sake, don't take a bite of that alleged pizza!" There is only one violent shock moment before the final 15 minutes.

With the suspense cranked so high, it's almost inevitable that the bloody finale comes as a bit of a letdown. They say that the devil is in the details, and West -- who otherwise has shown he knows the virtues of restraint, here and in his earlier "The Roost" -- makes a significant misstep by showing us a few too many details of his devil.

Nonetheless, the buildup is undeniably effective; for most of the movie, it provides the same kind of thrills as "Paranormal Activity," if somewhat less brilliantly.

BrandX@latimes.com